A Promise Never Broken
by LivinJgrl123
Summary: Drew Isely was Jason Todd's best friend, before he died. Five years later, she just happens to meet the Red Hood after a night of revisiting her past. Her life will most likely never be the same once she discovers the truth about Jason and the Red Hood. *Some elements of A/U*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer!**

**A/N: greetings, HUMANITY! :D I'm here with yes another story (i hope this one sticks with me... the others i've tried to write didn't work out so well in mah head).**

* * *

_Then..._

* * *

Drew kicked the ball as hard as she could, still in the air, and her cleats made contact with the muddy ground as the ball flew past the goalie's frantic grasp. Her team cheered and she was high fived several times by her own team and those who were for the other team. She went over to the goalie she'd managed to get past and shook his hand.

"Good game?" she asked.

"Good game," he told her, smiling, turning away towards the crowd on the bleachers.

Dew also turned and grinned to see a very exhausted yet very smug Jason coming towards her, hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket, a smirk on his face. Even though she was exhausted from running and kicking the ball so much, she ran the rest of the way to him and hugged him tightly.

"You didn't have to come, you know," she said, smiling.

"Of course I did," he said, even though they both knew he ought to be sleeping. "You were awesome."

"Sure, I'm only as awesome as the boy who saves the world every single day, one person at a time," she grinned.

"You'll be almost as awesome as me when you're not covered in mud," he said to the fifteen year old.

Drew scowled and looked down at herself. Her green soccer jersey, shorts, socks, and cleats were covered in mud. She wouldn't have been surprised if her face had some steaks or if her hair was matted: sometimes you just had to make a dive or six when you were goalie for half a game, playing soccer on a late Saturday afternoon.

Jason was the second adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. Bruce had a lot late night company meetings and often had Jason come with him; that was why he was so tired all the time.

Or, that was what he had Drew believe.

Jason's cell phone rang and he answered.

"Yeah? Oh, hi Bruce. Yeah...I'm on my way." With a sigh, he snapped his phone shut and put it back in his black jacket pocket. He smiled at Drew apologetically. "I got to go," he said, hugging her swiftly.

"Meeting?" she asked him.

"Meeting," he confirmed. He leaned forward, his dark hair hanging in his mischievous, brilliant green eyes. "I'll be back."

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise." He hugged her again, ruffled her hair, and walked away.

Drew never thought that would be the last time she would ever see Jason Todd.

* * *

_Now..._

* * *

Drew was sitting on the same bleachers in front of the same school that she had attended for the last four years of public education.

It had been five years.

Five.

She was remembering the soccer game, his face, his eyes, his promise.

She remembered his brother calling her one night and telling her he'd died in a bombing. She'd hung up as soon as those words had come over the line and had refused to speak to anyone about anything for a week.

Now here she was, five years later.

Drew stood up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her navy blue jacket, hunched her shoulders against the cool wind, and walked away from the school.

It only felt as if she'd received the news yesterday.

As she walked along, she passed a warehouse just as a woman dressed up nice and richly rushed out, knocking her over.

"Who're you?" the rich woman asked. She had dark hair and her eyes were narrowed.

Drew got to her feet, shaking her black hair out of her eyes. "Just walking home," she said.

"Sure," the woman said. "I'm sure you were just spying, too."

"You could only be thinking that if there was a need for someone to spy on you," Drew said, the smart-ass part of her attitude coming back to her after spending a few hours of just sitting, freezing her butt off, while filling her mind with thoughts from the past.

"Good observation," the woman said, "now, since I have no way of knowing what you're implying is true, you have to come with me."

"I have to?" Drew out her hands on hips. "Gosh, I didn't realize you had the right to tell me what to do. Oh, that's right: you don't."

Drew began walking away, but heard a thuggish voice from behind say, "if you want to leave, come with us."

Drew sighed. She was more annoyed than scared, which wasn't what any ordinary person would be feeling. She turned around to see a man pointing a gun at her. A shiver of fear trickled down her spine and she began feeling nervous.

Now she was scared.

She nodded and followed them inside the warehouse, and people sitting at a table all turned in their chairs to look at her.

"She snooping?" one of the nicely-dressed crooks asked.

"Nope," Drew said, "wrong place, wrong time."

She noticed a bag on the table and bullet holes. What had happened here? She craned her neck and nearly vomited at the gory sight within the bag. But she had a strong stomach when it came to violence and blood and guts.

"Smart-ass," one of them muttered.

"I'm pretty sure my ass isn't smart," Drew told him, and earned herself a few glares.

"What are we gonna do with this girl?" the woman asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Turn her into the new boss?" one of the more causually-dressed men suggested.

"I'm not some homework assignment," Drew said, frowning. "I want to go home. I don't care what you think: I only know what I know, and that's that."

"And what do you know?" the woman asked.

"Someone shot at you."

The woman nodded slowly. "We're not letting you go, though," she told her.

Drew sighed again. "I know, I know, you're going to kill me. If you are, just get it over with, okay?"

"We don't need a murder pinned on us," the woman said. "We're not killing you for only that reason."

"Good for me," Drew said, rolling her eyes. She wouldn't let them see how scared she was. It just didn't seem like an option.

"Now who's this?"

The whole room grew silent and Drew turned around to see someone looking down at her. She jumped back, startled. She hadn't even heard him come up behind her.

"We believe she was snooping," the woman said, the only one looking as if she wasn't scared.

Drew remembered hearing about this guy: he looked just how the people on the streets described him.

This was the Red Hood.

"Were you?" He asked her.

"Why don't you ask your buddies?" She said, her nervousness increasing by the second, but her fear was still buried deep.

"You got a name?" He asked her.

"Yes, but I really don't feel like giving it to you."

"Cooperate," the dark haired woman said, glaring. "And you'll leave this place alive and unharmed."

Drew swallowed, hard.

The Red Hood remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

The twenty year old ran a hand through her black hair, seeing no way out of this. "You going to kill me when I tell you?"

"Depends on who you are," the Red Hood said.

The girl took a tiny step back, showing the first signs of her fear that she had somehow managed to mask.

"Drew," she said, "Drew Isley."

The Red Hood tilted his head and remained silent for only a moment before saying, "let her go."

"Sir—"

"Let her go."

The woman nodded and glared at Drew.

She took this chance to sprint out of the building and down the street, not looking back. She didn't know why the Red Hood had decided to let her go or if she should even care.

What Drew did know was that this probably wasn't the last time she was going to see him again.

She was right about that.

* * *

**A/N: More of an intro than a chapter... oh well.**

**Thank ye for giving this a try :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: hope you like it so far! the "then..." and "now..." indicate that there will be flash backs. Right, thanks! I saw Hotel Transylvania today. OMG IT WAS SOOO CUTE! "Check it out ima Fraken-Homie!" XD Laughing my butt off... anyways!**

* * *

_Now..._

* * *

Drew sat down as soon as the bus pulled away from the bench she'd sitting on for over half an hour. It had been almost an entire week since she'd first met the Red Hood. A lot had happened since then: the Joker had been broken out of Arkham, the Red Hood hadn't been seen since that night, and Black Mask was back in buisness after authorities had failed to link him to the Joker's escape.

Drew was exhausted. She worked in a customer service department for an insurance company and had spent the entire day answering calls, trying not be a complete smart-ass, but a few had ended with angry insults.

Drew leaned her head back so she was looking at the ceiling. She wanted to fall asleep right then and there, but if she fell asleep on the bus she would wake up in some part of Gotham and spend hours searching for something familiar.

But she found herself dozing off anyways, and just decided to go with it. She didn't want to return to her apartment.

When the bus jolted to a stop sometime later, she knew she was lost as she got off the bus and started walking again. She had no idea how long she'd had her eyes closed and didn't care.

The buildings here looked expensive and Drew suddenly had a vague idea at what part in Gotham she was in: the rich part. Never had she set foot in this part of the city and never had she wanted to nor needed to. Being an orphan from one of the poorest sections, she didn't get to see a lot of fancy. Not that she minded: she was content with the experiences, the dangers, and the opportunities the less fortunate of Gotham's residents called their lives.

A cold breeze managed to drag itself through her jacket, plaid button-up shirt, and tank top and settle into her skin, chilling her to the point where she cursed under her breath. It was too cold for her liking, but this was better than just sitting on the bleachers, revisiting a past she sometimes thanked herself for accepting, even if it was a painful one.

Drew stopped, having the feeling that someone was watching her. She'd had it all week long, since the Red Hood had let her go. Maybe she was just worried he'd send someone after her and kill her, or maybe he'd do it himself.

Drew realized that she had stopped in front of a home under construction and gazed up at it, hugging herself for warmth. Seeing that no one was working on it, she made a face at the huge structure and continued on.

"In a hurry?" she halted, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up on end as the familiar voice she'd been hoping she'd never hear again sent chills down her spine.

Slowly, Drew turned around, her heart thudding in her ears as she let her eyes rest on the Red Hood.

"To get home?" She began feeling nervous again, and let it show this time. Being more equipped to mask other emotions, she let her mask slip just this once.

"What else would I mean?" He seemed to be a patient man now, considering what he'd done a week ago in just one night.

Drew sighed. "Not really," she admitted, running a hand through her curls, wishing that she wasn't here, that she wasn't anywhere. "Look, if this is about you thinking I'm a spy—"

"That's not why I'm here," he said, stepping closer to her. She involuntarily took a step back in the opposite direction she'd been headed. She wasn't even sure if she was going anywhere at all. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the gate that led to the unfinished mansion she'd stopped in front of earlier.

"Then why are you?" she asked, keeping her eyes on him. He was tall, muscular, and deadly.

That screamed "don't mess with me" and she wasn't in the mood to.

"To talk."

"About?"

"This." He pulled a piece of square paper out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. She took it, glanced at it once, and gasped, clutching the thing to her chest.

It was a photo that had gone missing ever since she'd gone back to her old high school. She'd figured she'd dropped it on her way back due to all the bouncing around she'd done to get home as fast as she could. But it wasn't just any old photo. It wasn't a photo of her mother or father or her aunt or her cousin or her grandmother or anyone like that.

No, they paled in comparison in the importance department when it came to this picture.

Drew glared at the Red Hood as she steadied herself, trying to make her fingers stop shaking. She got them to, but he had seen the impact of the photo.

It was a picture of her and Jason when they had first become friends. She had been nine, and he had been eleven. They were standing in front of Wayne Manor. Jason's arm was around her waist, and he was ruffling her hair, smirking while she laughed, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to get away from him. Alfred, the Wayne's butler, her taken the photo without their knowing while they had been been rough-housing outside. She remembered that he had been the once to teach her how to kick a soccer ball properly and how to dive as a goalie. Her soccer uniform, the bruises from her "first" life, as Jason preferred to address it as, still visible on her skin, the shadows under ger eyes, and the bony body she possessed were slowly molding into someone different. And there was Jason.

You could only describe Jason as Jason, because there was no other way to.

"How did you...?" she wondered, peaking at the photo, and her heart felt a pang as her eyes found Jason. She carried this everywhere with her; she never left home without it. It was like a piece of Jason: one of the only pieces of him that belonged to her and no one else.

"Well, I went back to that school to make sure you weren't up to anything, and found that on the ground."

"Thank you," Drew said, smiling sincerely at him for a brief moment, remembering the time when this happy photo had been taken.

* * *

_Then..._

* * *

Jason and Drew stood out back near the cemetary near the mansion. Bruce Wayne had no meetings today, so he was watching them do whatever Jason had planned for the girl. Dick, his other son, was sitting beside him, grinning from ear to ear, while Alfred had a camera ready, unbeknownst to the rest of them. It was late summer and the evening was growing cool, but they didn't seem to mind much.

"Do you know how to play soccer?" Jason asked the bruised girl.

She shrugged. "Not really."

"But you like it anyways?"

This was answered by a nod.

Jason grinned and took a slow step forward so he was right in front of her. Anything sudden startled her. He had a soccer ball in front of her. "Watch me," he told her, and she did as he kicked it, hard.

She smiled as it went sailing through the air and Dick shot out of his lawn chair and caught it. He threw it back to Jason and he caught it easily. He turned to Drew and set it down at her feet. "You try," he said, and then whispered, "hit it as hard as you can."

Drew nodded, still smiling. She took a tiny step back and without warning her foot made contact with rubber thing, and sent it sailing over Bruce's head and it thumped against the huge oak back doors.

Jason cheered. He grabbed her and ruffled her hair while she squirmed, laughed, giggled, and shouted in protest as she tried to get away from him, but his arm kept her in place. They ended up wrestling each other and trying to tackle one another while the adults had simply just sat and watched with amusement. Even Bruce had smiled. Bruce didn't smile much.

At the end of the night, the two had fallen asleep on the couch in the huge living room, with Drew's head resting against his shoulder and Jason grinning in his sleep.

* * *

_Now..._

* * *

Drew's smile faded as she pressed the photo above her heart.

"How old is that photo?" he asked her, leaning against a wall, arms folded.

"Eleven years."

"Why do you keep that?"

"Because it's special."

The Red Hood scoffed. "It's just a piece of paper."

Drew frowned. "To everyone but me," she snapped.

"Who is that kid, anyways?"

"Just a friend of mine." She wasn't about to tell him who Jason was: that would involve telling him about her life, and didn't need some... murderer to know what she'd gone through, or what she'd seen and heard, or what she'd felt during her childhood.

It was a childhood no one would want to remember, but if she hadn't had the one she had, then Jason would have never found her, and she wouldn't have met Robin, either.

Yes, she had met Robin. Only a few times. And he had been sweet, but not as sweet as Jason.

He was dead, too, though.

So she didn't want to think about him either,

He was suddenly asking her questions about "just a piece of paper", huh? It made no sense. Drew wanted to run and hide, and not talk to this criminal, but something told her that would only piss him off. How she knew that she did not know. A lot of people who'd seen the photo hadn't really cared for its value to its owner. But that was okay. She needed more than one thing of her best friend's, and this would be the constant reminder she would carry with her of all the things he'd ever said and done to help her and make fun of her.

It was also a reminder of the promise he'd broken.

Drew scowled and turned on her heel to walk in the direction from whence she came, but the Red Hood grabbed her arm. Not in a mean way, but in a way that made her freeze completely.

"Is there something you want?" she snapped, yanking her arm away from him.

"Not now," he told her, watching her carefully. "But I'll be back. And that's a promise."

Drew whipped her head around to look at him. "Promises are only made to be broken," she spat.

"And why would you say that?"

"Seriously: if you're just here to kill me, kill me! I want to get out of here!"

The Red Hood chuckled darkly. "If I wanted you dead, you would've been dead a week ago."

"Then why do you keep bothering me about things that you don't even know about?" she shouted, stamping her feet. Drew Isley didn't _do_ sobbing and sniffling when it came to things like this, but sometimes if something was too overwhelming she would, but she usually got angry.

Or really, _really_ pissed.

"I know a lot more than you think I do," he said. She could feel him just looking at her calmly under that helmet of his. He stood still, just watching her.

"Oh, and what do you know?"

"More than you think."

Drew glared at him and turned on her heel, but didn't get in more than a few steps before she was yanked backwards and was staring up into the helmet-ed face of the Red Hood.

"Tell me one more thing, before I leave you here," he said, keeping his hold on her arm so she couldn't get away. "What is it with you and promises?"

"The one that meant the most to me was broken," Drew said, "now let go of me!"

He did just that. But before he left her there, he leaned forward and said, "I've never broken a promise, no matter what you might think."

Perplexed, pissed off, and cold, Drew watched him leave her alone.

She couldn't help wondering about the promise he'd made to whoever he'd made it to and decided not to dwell on it as she walked on, trying to find something familiar without going anywhere shady.

Drew did think of one thing, though: Jason had never kept his promise.

He had never come back.

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**A/N: please review, if you like! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: thanks for everything, you all rock :)**

**this is probably a little rushed, but alas, that happens sometimes.**

* * *

Drew was sitting on her bed, her legs tucked underneath her, a few things spread out on her bed.

They were all connected to Jason.

It was almost one in the morning, and she had just gotten home. She'd needed to think about things, sort them out. As confused as she was, she was also sad and scared. Scared because the Red Hood knew where to find her and he seemed to know more than anyone else would about her life. Sad because she'd dared to remember Jason and a happy memory: happy memories didn't make her happy, they only saddened her further because it reminded her that she would most likely never be that happy again. It was nothing to cry over: it only overwhelmed her with confusion.

First, there was the photo that the Red Hood had returned to her. His actions still mystified her and she now wanted to find out what was happening. She obviously meant something to him, if he hadn't killed her yet and since he had returned the photo that had meant something to him, too.

Who says its just a piece of paper after you return it to its owner after a week in his possession? It didn't make much sense; then again, life didn't make much sense, and not much else did, either.

The second item was Jason's old soccer ball. All her life, even during the worst part of it, she had wanted to learn about and play soccer. Until she had been rescued and had been promised that someone nice would share their home with her, she had been allowed to do few things. She remembered spending dozens of scattered hours, when Jason, Bruce, and Dick weren't at meetings, of Dick and Jason teaching her all about soccer and other things as well.

The brothers had been homeschooled, but Drew had wanted to go to a public school. They seemed to know more about the things she had learned about than her teachers did, and it was shocking to believe that Alfred tutored both of them.

The third item was a batterang. Jason had told her that Robin had given it to him once and he had decided to give to her. It wasn't hard to believe that, because she had met Robin a few times herself.

Quickly erasing any of those thoughts that would bring up those old memories of her speaking to the second Boy Wonder and Nightwing, she focused on the fourth and final item that was connected to Jason.

This final item was simple. It was merely a necklace weaved out of red and black yarn. The ends had silver clasps. Drew didn't really know what the meaning of this was to her now, but Jason had first made it for her on the first day she had come to stay with them in the mansion. She picked it up and smiled softly at it. He had claimed to Bruce and Dick that he had bought it. But he had, in fact, made it. Alfred had told her so, and when Jason had finally admitted that he had been the maker of it when they had been alone outside, she remembered joy flowing through her and she had flung her arms around him with him laughing at her show of sudden happiness.

Drew had decided with uncertainty that she would not tell the police of the Red Hood's second encounter. Telling the police about the first had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, since she knew she interested him, it might present to him an opportunity to kill her. When she had come into the station to see the Commissioner himself about the matter, everyone who didn't know what had happened knew there was something wrong. Drew had often come into the same station before she had been sent to live with Jason, because of her horrific family. As soon as she had said, "the Red Hood" Gordon had wanted her apartment watched at all times, but when she explained to to him what had transpired that night, he had told her that he might ask the Batman himself about it. Not wanting any publicity from this, she had declined this offer, but he had assured her that there would be no press or any way for the Red Hood to find out that she had talked to the authorities.

Drew sighed and swung her legs off her bed, letting her bare feet touch the floor. She had changed into black sweatpants and a navy blue plaid shirt that was unbuttoned, showing her thin grey tank top underneath. The shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was down and messy, the curls falling over her eyes, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back.

She got up and went to the window, pressing her nose against the glass. As tired as she was, she knew she wasn't going to find any sleep. The Red Hood was still lurking about in her head, and thoughts of Jason were haunting her. She had managed to shove back the twisted memories from her early childhood, when she had still lived with her biological family.

Before Robin had found her.

Leaning her head against the glass and shutting her eyes, she used all her willpower, and at this hour there was little of it, to block out memories of her mother, her father, her, aunt, cousin and grandmother. Images of her mother screaming, her father with his fist raised, her grandmother glaring, and her cousin crying filled her head and she slammed her head against the glass, and the sudden pain forced the memories away, into that tight little corner in her mind where they would wait for just the right moment to spring up and run rabid through her head.

Not wanting to think about it, she went over to her closet and shoved on her favorite black boots, not bothering to put on socks, and didn't even grab a coat as she ran out the door, locking it behind it quickly before she took to the stairs of her mediocre apartment building. It was sort of shabby, but it was a home she could tolerate. She went down six more floors before finding herself running breathlessly down the street, passing few people, mostly thuggish-looking men and women who could have been hookers for all she knew. She ignored the concerned stares and the aggravated glares as she whizzed by, her mind emptying itself of all thoughts, with only one destination in mind: Wayne Manor.

She didn't know why, but she wanted to go see Jason's grave. She never believed in paying her respects by standing over his dead body and sobbing about nothing. She'd down that at his funeral and hadn't felt better at all. In fact, being anywhere near the mansion killed her inside with each step as she drew closer and closer to the place where her friend was laid to rest.

Crying never solved anything, and that wasn't why she was climbing stealthily over the iron fence and stealing into the graveyard to find his stone, standing a few feet away from it. She was only here to think about everything.

Shivering as snow began to fall, rubbing her arms and letting her teeth chatter, Drew stared down at the patch of dirt surrounding his grave. How odd. By now it would be choked with weeds and bushes and such, but no: the ground here looked as if it had been dug up, and recently, too.

Wondering what could have happened in order for someone to disturb the grave, and if someone so happened to disturb the grave, the twenty year old sank to her knees slowly and began picking away large chunks of dampened - but - not - quite - muddy dirt.

She began clawing away at it, desperate for something to fill her head, yet desperate for nothing as well. She felt as if she was being watched, and looked around, her eyes narrowed. The snow clung to her body and soaked her clothes as she paused, her hair now plastered to her skin.

She was being watched.

But by who?

Drew shook her head, not caring, and resumed digging with only her hands to aid her. By the time she was scraping away at the wooden coffin, her hands were bloody from the labor their owner had just put them through. She pried the coffin lid open and gasped.

It was empty.

Jason wasn't here.

Her mouth hung open for a moment as her mind struggled to come up with an explanation for this. But there was none.

Anger began boiling inside her chest, and she climbed out of the hole she'd made, storming towards the huge oak doors. She began pounding on them, shouting, but when no answer came, she located a rock by the door and hurled it through the nearest window. She climbed in, not completely aware of what she was doing, and she didn't care at all. She made her way through the house, knowing she was tracking mud and water everywhere as she heard voices from somewhere below her. She pressed herself up against a wall next to a grandfather clock as the voices drew closer. She was hidden by a book shelf and prayed no one would find her.

"...so why do you think he's been talking to her?" it was Dick talking.

"I think he's going to tell her that it's him," came Bruce's reply. What on earth were they talking about?

"Do you think he's going to kill her?" to her astonishment, the grandfather clock swung towards her, and two men exited, letting the thing swing back into place. Well, that was weird. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull when she saw what they were wearing.

_Batman? Bruce is... Batman?_

_Nightwing. Dick... is..._

Drew really just wanted to scream "HOLY HELL" and demand answers, but she kept silent as they walked away from here.

"What's this mess?" she heard Dick ask. "Probably just some kids. Hey... what's in the graveyard?" she heard the front doors being unlocked and opened, and they shut again. She took this chance to try to pry her way into the clock, but got nowhere. Her bloody hands would be a dead giveaway as to who had snuck onto Bruce's property, but she needed to find out what was going on.

Sh finally opened the case and pulled the swinging thing and it opened. She shut it behind her and found herself going down a dark stairway. She stumbled into a large room that was pretty much a cave.

Full of Batman stuff.

Drew nearly fell over when she saw the Batmobile and the computers and everything else, but what caught her attention was the Robin suit encased in glass in the corner. She ran over to it, her bloody hands leaving smears on the glass as she began piecing everything together.

Dick was Nightwing, who had been the first Robin.

Bruce was Batman... that explained the meetings. Those meetings he'd never explained to her.

And Jason?

Drew began pounding her fists against the glass. "No, no, no, no, no!" she shouted, slamming her fist one last time into the glass so hard it cracked, piercing her already bleeding hand. She stepped away, refusing to cry as she wiped the blood on her hands onto her sweatpants. She was soaking wet, she was bloody, and she was filthy. She looked horrible, even worse than she had looked when she had been whisked away from her home with her horrid family.

She went over to the computer and stared up at the screen. There was the Red Hood. She tilted her head to the side, examining it. She looked back at the bloodied glass and let her shoulders droop.

Jason Todd had been Robin. She remembered hearing about his death on the television soon after Jason had been supposedly buried. Apparently, the second Robin had been kidnapped by the Joker had been beaten to death and then blown up as an afterthought by the madman.

This was almost too much for her.

Almost.

Drew could hear Dick and Bruce... Nightwing and Batman... yelling, and she took this as her cue to get out of this cave. She ran in a random direction and found herself going down a long hall and up a flight of stairs. She found a door and shoved it open, surprised to find herself out in the graveyard. She took off, vaulted the fence with ease, hoping that they hadn't seen her leave.

When she was finally in the middle of Gotham, she stopped on the corner of a street, falling to her knees. No one else was around to hear the angry cries that she let loose as she looked at her bloody hands.

Jason had been beaten to death by the Joker. He had suffered... a lot... Bruce was Batman... Nightwing was Dick... she crawled over to an alleyway and curled up into a ball, her hands stinging, her body shivering violently as more snow fell. It was just so cold... her boots were filled with mud and rocks, her pants were stained with mud, and her tank and shirt were bloody. Her pale skin was streaked with all these things, and her hair was also matted with blood.

She stood up after a few moments, stumbling home, needing a hot shower. She ignored the occasionally shout and look as she neared her home.

Drew needed time to think about all of this, and then she would go looking for the answers to her questions.

The most important question she had that needed answering concerned Jason.

Where was his body?

* * *

**A/N: thanks again for reviewing, reading, following, and all that jazz :D plze leave a thought or two! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: thank ye for reading!**

* * *

Bruce and Dick stared in shock at the blood, water, and dirt that were in puddles on the floor of the Batcave. The hand prints on the glass were smeared, it was apparent that whoever had dug up the grave had done so with bare hands and had discovered the Cave.

"This isn't good," Dick said after a few long seconds of silence. "Want me to check the security tapes?"

"We already know who it is," Bruce muttered, stepping forward to examine the bloody smears further.

"Do you think she knows that her best friend as been around for the past few years?" He wondered. "I mean, she must have dug up the body with her bare hands... And I'm guessing that if we tested this blood, it would be Drew's."

"I don't think so," the Caped Crusader replied. "If she found out that Jason is alive she most likely had a different reaction."

"She would still be here, hacking your computer," Dick sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Jason was right: as soon as she came to live with us we should have just told her the truth."

Bruce said nothing. Of course Jason had been right all those years ago. Well, back then they thought he hadn't been, but now it seemed like it could have spared Drew the pain she would experience once she found out that Jason was alive and living as the Red Hood. She could very well kill someone when she found out: angry was how she dealt with things.

"We need to go talk to him," Dick said suddenly.

"Why would he bother?" Bruce shook his head. "Gordon told me about her, last week. Told me that he let her go."

"So... He still likes her, then? Well, at least he hasn't killed her, right?"

"We won't know anything for sure until she knows about Jason."

"She's going to try to kill us, you know," Dick said, glancing up at the picture of his brother on the screen. "Or she'll jus kill Jason."

"She couldn't kill Jason," Bruce said, glaring at the mess in the floor the girl had made. "Even before she had the slightest chance he'd drop a hint and she wouldn't be able to defend herself if it really is his wish to kill her. Which it isn't."

"Do you think he saw her again recently? What do you think motivated her to come to his grave? Even he knows that she'd never go there unless... Someone brought him up." Turning to Bruce, he said, "he must be trying to get her to guess who he is. Since she saw that there was never a real body, she's going to get suspicious of his actions."

He went over to the computer and brought up the feed from the security cameras. After a few more seconds of typing, he let the video play. Drew was digging, but when she looked up, he paused the video.

The look on her fact told the two men that something was very, very wrong.

Dick switched to a setting which allowed him to see in infrared. His expression turned grim when he saw the heat signature hidden in the bushes, and turned it back to its normal setting as he brightened the image and zoomed in on it.

Dick sighed. "Is it just me, or does Jason looked pissed in this snapshot?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes and frowned. The Red Hood had his fists clenched, his body was tense, and he really looked as if he wanted to kill someone. Or beat them half to death. "How about we ask him what's bothering him?" Dick suggested.

"We already have an idea."

"We do?" The man who had once been Robin thought a moment.

"It's what Drew doesn't know about him," Bruce sighed, sitting down in his chair. "He does and doesn't want her to know he's alive. He does because he knows that she still and will probably always see him as her best friend, and he doesn't because of what he is now. Despite everything, her opinion of him seems to be the only one that matters."

"Knowing him, she's bound to find out soon," Dick mused. "I mean, if she were my best friend, and if I were in Jason's shoes, and thank god I'm not, I would eventually get mad at the fact that my best friend didn't even know I was alive. And since we all knew, except Drew, that he liked her. A lot. Probably still does, so, if Drew just so happens to go on a rampage in the next week or so, we'll know why."

Bruce shook his head. That could only be expected of Drew.

"So...we just wait and see what happens?" he shook his head. "as long as Jason understands that she just might shoot him, I'm fine with her knowing. She already knows who we are and who Jason was."

The two men fell into silence.

They could only imagine what would happen when Drew found out.

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**A/N: let me know what you think! Filler chapter I thinks, but meh.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: hiya! hope you guys didnt mind the last chapter.**

**I'm still working on "creation or destruction" ive been thinking about things plot wise, and i havent been coming up with any good ideas. Not to worry! should be updated soon(ish?).**

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Drew had taken the hottest shower in the history of showering once she had returned home, bloody, furious, and muddy. She had thrown all of her articles of clothing into a corner in her bathroom and had sat down in the shower, running her hands through her hair repeatedly before shutting it off before it could grow cold. She stepped out of the shower, shivering already. Her hands needed tending to, but she couldn't think about them.

All she had done was prevent herself from clobbering someone.

She padded to her room, grabbed some clothes, and went back to the bathroom to change. She had on short-shorts that she usually reserved for the warmer months, but tonight her head was spinning with memories, so she couldn't focus on much. She put on a grey tank top and a plaid button-up shirt, rolled up the sleeves, and left it open. She went back over to her bed and frowned to see her window open.

Funny. She hadn't closed it. With her mind somewhere else, she closed it and was about to crawl into bed when someone cleared his throat right behind her.

Drew opened her mouth to scream, but a gloved hand clamped over her mouth and she heard a chuckle. Her mood darkened. This was the last person she needed.

Especially after finding out that the Joker had killed Jason, and Jason had been Robin all along.

The Red Hood released her, and she spun around, glaring.

"Get out!" she yelled angrily. "_Now_!"

"I will when I feel like it," he told her, leaning against the wall next to her bed. She frowned, pushing her fingers through her wet hair. She winced, remembering what she'd done to them, and felt her blood boil again.

Suddenly, the Red hood was in front of her, inspecting her hands. She struggled to get away from him, but he refused to let go. He just tightened his grip on her wrists, and she eventually stayed still, much to her aggravation.

"What the hell did you _do_ to your hands?" this was hardly a question.

"None of your buisness," she said numble, refusing to look at him. Instead, her eyes focused on the ground.

"Oh, really? Stay still." He went into the kitchen and came back only moments later with bandages in hand. He began wrapping them around her damaged fingers, slowly, methodically, as if he'd done this many, many times. "You're an idiot."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I _said_, you're an _idiot_."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe _you_ were the one who just _dug up_ a grave with their bare hands!" she snapped as he began working on her left hand.

He visibly tensed. "_What_?" his voice was low, deadly. Drew refused to show him how nervous she was right now. It just wasn't in her to let him know that she was cowering as he worked to heal her hands. And why would he even care? He didn't seem to care about anyone else.

She sighed, glaring. "I... I dug up a grave with my bare hands." Her voice shook. Realizing just now what she had done, she had to hold back waves of emotions as the Red Hood finished with her hands. She examined them, thinking distantly that they resembled a mummy's, except she could move her fingers.

Jason used to bandage her arms like this. He had told her that it was a game: she would be Cleopatra and come back from the dead and try to tag him, the evil tomb robber. She had never really won a fair game, except once, when Jason had tripped down the stairs and she had tackled him, claiming victory. That had been during her second week with the Wayne family.

Shoving those memories away, she took a deep breath, she tried to clear the rest of her head as she said, "you made me think of him. So I went to his grave. I never do that. Never."

"Why don't you?" he asked, sounding...odd. What was that in his voice? She couldn't place it.

"Because the last time I did I cried a god damned river," she snapped. "And he hated it when I cried! Know why? Because once I start crying, you can't get me to stop!" she stormed over to the window, pushed it back open, and jabbed her finger in its direction. "Now get out! I've already told you enough as it is!"

The Red Hood just crossed his arms over his chest, leaning forward, as if inspecting her. "You... wait..." he tilted his head, straightening up. "What did you find?" he asked suddenly.

"Nothing," she admitted. "Nothing!" she stomped away from him, replacing her pain with a white-hot fury.

"I really think you should tell me..."

"Fine!" she threw up her hands, thinking, what the hell? What was the use of burying a secret like that? Jason was _dead_. "You know what? To hell with all of it! All of it!" Facing him, fists shaking, eyes ablaze, she said through gritted teeth, "I just dug up my best friend! And do you know what I found?"

"Tell me."

"NOTHING!" she shouted, slamming her fist into the wall so hard it left a dent. Her knuckles were now bleeding through the bandages, and she heard the Red Hood sigh heavily.

Really?

He just sighed?

"There was no body," she shouted, refusing to let any tears fall any time soon. He stiffened at this. "There was nothing! And do you know what I found out? I found out that my best friend was _Robin._ **ROBIN!**"

She slammed her fist into the wall again, and a faint crack reached her ears. Her hand throbbed as she dropped onto her bed, glaring straight ahead, not looking at the Red Hood. "Can you belive that?" she asked softly as he moved slowly to sit next to her. She tensed, but slowly relaxed. She knew he wasn't about to kill her, or hurt her. But something was making him uneasy, and it couldn't because of what she had just revealed... could it?

"I can, actually," he muttered.

"He wasn't blown up... like I was told," she said, still guarding his identity. Jason still deserved that. "He was beaten to death by the goddamn Joker! No... he suffered. Beaten, broken..." she hiccupped and leaped up, worried she might throw up just talking about it, but the Red Hood yanked her back down in her place, holding her by her shoulders so she stayed planted tot he bed.

"Would you just hold still?" he asked, sounding exhausted. "Look, I... he hurt me, too. A long time ago. But... just..." he sighed, now in frustration. "Don't do anything stupid, Drew. Got it? That means no going to beat him to death like he did... Robin... okay? And you're going to stay here and let those hands of yours heal. Are we clear?"

"Who died and made you my mother?" she spat.

He chuckled grimly. "Well, I may not be that, but give me your word that you won't leave this room for the rest of the night."

"I. Don't. Make. Promises."

"Dammit, Drew, just don't go anywhere, okay?"

He stood up and walked towards the window. "You should get this locked," he said, "someone might come in when you least expect it."

She glared.

Before he left her alone, though, he said, "you know, I didn't notice it before, but you grew up nicely."

As soon as she was alone, she buried her burning face into her pillows, beating her fists against her mattress.

Had he seriously just said that to her?

Drew stood up, pulling on sweat pants and rain boots. She wasn't going to stay here, in her room.

She was going to see the man responsible for her best friend's death, and she was willing to walk there.

Without a second though, she headed out the door, pulling on a thick coat as she went.

_Time for the madman to get a visitor._

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**A/N: thanks for reading, please leave a thought or two!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: HOLA PEOPLE! :D I am on a MISSION to update everything as much as i can this weekend! if i dont update something i am terrible sorry but yeah! So. I am gonna update Marta Had A Secret, Something More Deadly, Unwillingly An Angel, When Life Is Wrong, The Missing Piece, Learn to Expect the Unexpected, Ash, and of course, this! did i forget to mention any others? hmm i dont think so. oh well.**

**Too much...**

**It's like homework. WHICH I FINISHED! Civics, Tech, Muzic, ALL OF IT!**

**So. if i dont update any of these this weekend i apologize in advance because of course my brain is probably more wacky than anyone else's within a five mile radius of me! hahahahahahahahahahahaha well im not TOO sure about that, but on with the story!**

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Drew sat across from the Joker, who had been staring at her for the past ten minutes, saying nothing. The man's hair was greasy and his makeup was smudged, but otherwise he looked to be alright, despite the injuries he had been given last week.

Numbly, she stared right back. So this had been the very man who had killed Jason. And he had apparently hurt the Red Hood. Knowing he wouldn't have lied about something like that, she had realized that all she had wanted to do was to see his face and know for certain that he had been the cause of her best friend's, and Robin's, death.

"So, I don't think I've met you before," the Joker drawled, frowning at her. The malicious glint in his eyes made her want to strangle him, beat him, and break him in every way he had broken Jason.

But all she did was stay numbed to the bone, all her feeling frozen within her. Later, they would thaw, and she would be out for blood. Either that, or she would burn something down.

"You haven't," she mumbled, refusing to look away from him.

"So, why ya here? Did I kill someone you love? Or maybe a family member?" he hooted with laughter. "Oh, yes, it's probably a sister or a brother! Tell me, how did they die?"

Drew tightened her hands into able fists, but she knew better than to try anything when the clown across from her was still alive, even if he was in a straight jacket. He could still snap her neck without thinking twice about it. In fact, she was certain that he didn't have to think at all when he killed someone, unless he was thinking of ways to make them suffer.

"You took someone away from me," she said, gritting her teeth.

"Family or love?" he cackled, for no apparent reason. Madman, indeed.

Drew knew she shouldn't be here. Someone would come as soon as they found her apartment. It didn't matter who it was: the Red Hood, Bruce, or Dick. Whoever would find her gone would know exactly where to look for her. But she had to be, as stupid and helpless as she felt. She _had_ to be.

"He was my best friend."

"Not admitting to either?" He scratched his head, and a smirk formed on his painted fast. Her stomach twisted at the sight of him. How badly she wanted to beat him to hell, drag him back, burn him alive, and toss him back she couldn't express to anyone in words. "Who was he, hmmm?"

"Robin."

The Joker sat up, his eyes widening and narrowing in interest. He should be dead. He should have died a long, long time ago. But here he was, right in front of her. "Oh? Are you sure you're not a fan?" he tilted his head, leaning forward to get a better look at her.

"No," she said coldly, glaring. "He's dead because of you."

A look of... something passed over the Joker's face before he burst into malicious, maniacal laughter.

"What's so funny?" Drew asked, unable to contain herself.

The Joker calmed down eventually, smirking at her. "Of all the people who don't know, you don't!" he cackled again. "So Bird Boy kept you in the dark?"

"What the hell are you even talking about?" Drew spat, standing up to leave.

"Jason, of course!" she froze. "That _is_ his name, _isn't it_?"

"_How_ do you—"

"Lady, I know _a lot_ more than you do right now!" he chuckled, and then turned half-serious for once in his insane life. "Have you been visited lately by any masked men?"

"No," the lie popped out of her mouth easily.

"LIAR!" he shouted, shaking his head in amusement. "Hoodie's found you, _hasn't he_?"

When he got no reply, he met her eyes, and his sent a chill down her spine. "Hoodie, or is it Red?—paid you a visit or two, hmmm?" he shook his head again. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. And you would have thought he'd had told _you_ by now! But no!" he laughed again.

Drew made another move to leave, but the Joker's stare stopped her midstep. "No wonder he never mentioned you! I can kill you now!"

"What do I care?" she spat. "My best friend is gone, my family is basically a living hell, and I really don't give a damn about what madness is coming out of your mouth right now! If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and piss someone off."

She walked over to the door, but as her hand rested on the handle, the Joker said, "you know who _Hoodie_, is _riiiiight_?"

Slowly, Drew turned around and looked at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and hatred. "Why would anyone know?"

"Oh, I know, Batsy knows, Bird Boy the First knows... everyone except you! Oh, how wonderful! I'm the one who gets to spoil the surprise!" he cackled again. Drew felt queasy, but shoved that feeling aside. What was he getting at?

He turned his seat around by hopping several times so he was looking up at the twenty-year-old. "What happened to your hands?" he asked with interest, noticing her mummified hands.

"I dug up a grave," she said, her voice rising slightly, a rage burning deep inside her. She was definitely going to burn something down tonight.

"OH?" he laughed again. "Was it your dear old Jason's? And did you find the fake body, or did they get rid of it by now?"

Drew blinked in surprise. Fake body? _What_?

"Oh! So you _didn't_ find it!" he shook his head, frowning in mock disappointment. "_Pity_." He cackled again.

"Tell me what's going on or I'm leaving," Drew hissed.

"Okay, _okay_," he rolled his eyes. "Impatient, are we?"

"Just tell me!"

He sighed dramatically. "Your Bird Brain isn't _dead_."

Drew glared at him, raised her fist, and slammed it into his face. He spit blood out of his mouth; she had split his lip. Her hand throbbed from the impact, but it felt good to get her anger out, to take it out on the monster that was the reason Jason Todd was dead.

"That's not _funny_," she shouted. It was a load of crap. Jason was dead. Robin was dead.

"Why would I joke about that?" he giggled when a look of pain crossed her face. "As much fun as it'd be to tell you that and lie, I'm not." He hiccupped, and giggled again.

"Because you're sick," she spat out venomously. "You took him away! The dead don't come back! Or maybe you're too crazy to know that? The dead stay dead, and the dead stay _gone_."

"See, lady, _that's_ where you're _wro-ong,_" the Joker drawled, clucking his tongue, smirking up at her. "You're murdering, loving Hoodie is your Bird Brian!" he cackled.

"LIES!" she punched him again, and the satisfying crunch of cartilage soothed her anger as blood ran in a river from the madman's nose. He only laughed. Did he enjoy pain, or did he enjoy causing it more?

"Oh, I wish I was, I wish," he cackled, "you know, you're a bit like him. You'd rather hit me than talk!"

"He's gone," Drew said, refusing to believe this crap. It wasn't real. If she had even thought it could be, it would have been wishful thinking. It was something so unlikely that it was just impossible.

"Listen here," he said, sitting up, spitting blood onto the floor, "Hoodie...Jason...Bird Brain... whatever you wanna kill him? He's not dead. Why would he stay dead?" he hooted with maniacal, sickening laughter. "So did ya see the empty grave? Did ya see a body? If he's dead, where's the body, then, hmmm?"

Drew opened her mouth and raised her fist to strike him again, but his words stopped her. He actually had a point... No. It had to be the clown's doing.

"I know what you're thinking," the Joker said quickly, "I do! And you think it's impossible! You know what he told me, before I blew him up five years ago?"

Drew shook her head, her arms falling to her sides, feeling weak. She couldn't bring herself to believe him. What he was saying couldn't be true, it just couldn't. It was unacceptable. Stupid. Naïve.

"He told me there was this friend he knew, a girl. Pretty, too! He liked her a lot, told me that she was the best. Described her, too. Told me that if there was one thing he could do, he would come back from the dead and see her again! And you know what I did? I laughed and started beating him with a crowbar!"

Drew couldn't take it. Too many emotions were confusing her. She left, her mouth open as she stumbled out of Arkham and barely even noticed when she found herself in Gotham.

Jason.

Alive?

The Red Hood?

Was this true?

Drew couldn't think: she had to find something to do, something to vent. She located a baseball just laying on the ground in the alley, retrieved it, and walked down the street, her mind set on hurting someone or something. She didn't feel as if she were in control of herself. Jason couldn't be alive. He couldn't be the Red Hood. He couldn't have been resurrected. It was impossible to believe... but there was a part of her that knew.

Knew he was alive.

Knew he was who the Joker said he was.

But she wasn't ready to face him or anything else: all she needed to do was hit something with her baseball bat, and she intended to before the night was over.

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**A/N: please review! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: HIIII! I would love to thank everyone who has found this story and FOLLOWED and stuff. and reviewed! You all have made me want to update again (i've been busy with life... well, mostly homework, but life too.)**

**So. I hope you like this chapter.**

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Drew stomped down the street, rage nearly blinding her as she located someone familiar, someone she remembered from a week ago, and locked onto that person. As she crossed the street carelessly, though, she saw a can of gasoline just sitting in an abandoned pickup truck in an alley and wicked thoughts began their dance inside her head. Dropping the bat in the middle of the mostly empty street and forgetting the woman who had threatened her, and luckily had not seen her, she went over to the truck and picked it up, and when she found a matchbook, her rage skyrocketed.

Heading off with these two things as snow fell around her, she felt like she was cut off from reality, like she was somehow outside it and that she had lost connection with it. It was due to the shock of finding out her best friend was alive, she knew, and therefore, she needed someway to... well, whatever she could do to get the rage out of her system instead of curling up on her bed and crying about it all night.

Seeing an old, abandoned building that didn't look very appealing, and upon seeing the **CONDEMNED** sign she figured no one would miss it. She began dumping the gasoline all over the front of it that showed in the dark alley way, until the can was empty. Flinging into one of the windows, hearing glass shattering, she struck up a match before she could second guess what she was doing or worry about the consequences and flicked it towards the building.

Immediately, the building caught on fire. It spread so fast she knew she had to get out of there, fast. She took off in the direction opposite in which she came from, and disappeared from the area long before she could hear sirens in the distance.

By time time her head cleared, she was lost once again, cold, and lonely. And she desperately wanted to cry, more than she really cared to admit. Slowly, she began to recognize where she was as she trudged on.

And she'd managed to land herself in the rich part of Gotham.

_Again._

Having an idea, she began running again, despite her body's protests and found the gates to the unfinished mansion she'd seen time first time she'd seen the Red Hood that night. Jumping the fence easily, she ran across the snow-covered lawn and leapt over a pile of sheets of plastic, dodging tarps flapping about in the freezing wind. The house was huge, piles of supplies were scattered about as she turned corners, went up stairs and down hallways.

When Drew finally found herself again, she was in a large room with glassless windows and snow filtered in through the cracks in the unfinished house. She went over to a far corner, out of the way of the snow and wind and most of the cold. Leaning into the corner and sliding down onto the hardwood floor, pulling her knees to her chest.

Drew idly wondered if what she had done was the wisest choice, but then she felt something wet on her cheek. Shocked, she put a ban to her cheek and gasped when she found that she had been crying long before she had found this huge, empty room. The sounds of the city seemed distant on this huge house, it reminded her of the time when she had lived with the Wayne's.

With Jason.

And with this final thought, she broke down and cried. No more rage filled her system: only sorrow and shock and disbelief choked her as she sobbed loudly in the empty house. Her cries, though, could be heard, even though she had been certain no one had seen her since she had gone to Arkham.

The thoughts of Jason being alive tormented her as she rocked herself back and forth, pressing her face into her legs, trying to muffle her sobs.

After the longest of times, she stood shakily, sniffing, wiping her eyes hurriedly to erase any signs of crying. No one needed to know that she had spent a good amount of time crying over something that she could do nothing about. Who needed to know, anyways?

Drew slowly went to the open space that would eventually be a huge window and peered around the flapping tarp and was greeted by a sharp blast of cold air.

"I don't understand!" She wailed, waving her bandaged hands around in frustration. Slamming her hands into the wall. She leaned out the window, her black hair rustled by the wind.

Out of nowhere someone grabbed the necklace she'd forgotten she had put on and yanked her backwards, back into the house and against another body. An arm wrapped itself around her waist quickly as a gloved hand clamped over her mouth as a scream of pure, sorrow-filled scream escaped her lips.

As soon as she was done screaming and thrashing about, she calmed down, but her heart was out of the control, as if it was trying to tear itself out of her chest in a wild emotional frenzy.

She knew who was keeping her from running out of the house and doing something that would get her into trouble. She'd already set something on fire: what else could she possibly do that was worse than that?

"Jason!" She said into the gloved hand. "Let me go!"

"You know," he murmured, his hand slowly leaving her mouth and examining the necklace he'd given her. "I can't believe you bothered keeping the damn thing."

"It really is you!" She shouted, spinning around and facing the Red Hood.

Jason.

"Take that off," she hissed, pointing at his helmet.

"Or what?" He leaned forward, poking her hard with his finger, and she stumbled back in response. "You gonna set something else on fire?"

"God dammit, Jason Peter Todd, you will take that mask off or there will be hell to pay before this night is over!"

He sighed. "You know you've been here for two hours, right?"

"I... How long have you been here?" she asked him, glaring. She was losing her calm appearance, if one could even call it that. She wanted to cry again, this was too much for her to take in.

"How long have you known? And why aren't you having a breakdown?" He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her no sign that he would take off his helmet, which kept her from believing this whole thing completely. But she needed to see his face, she needed to confirm the Joker's words.

When all he received was silence, he glared at her. She felt it, and a blank look crossed her face before she looked down at her feet, realizing something.

Jason's promise.

_A promise never broken_.

She looked and was about to let out a shriek as an unfamiliar yet familiar man covered her mouth.

Black hair.

Brilliant green eyes.

A trademark, exhausted smirk.

Drew, in shock, felt her legs give out and of course this man was familiar to her. This was the boy that had died long ago, that had left her alone in the world.

But here was.

The thunk of his helmet was distant in her mind as she stared, gaping, into his eyes.

"He was _right_," she whispered, steadying herself as he let go of her. "Jason..."_  
_

The smirk vanished as shock overwhelmed her again. "_Who_ told you?" a dark look crossed his features.

"You never broke it," she said, her eyes shimmering. "You've kept it all this time."

Jason sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't going to get anywhere with her while she was in this state.

"Let's get you back to your place," he said, putting on his helmet, taking her arm gently. After burning down a condemned building, digging up a grave, disappearing for an hour, and learning that her best friend had been Robin, and was alive, she was a mess. But the possibility of her getting angry or running off once she regained her normal state of mind was huge.

Jason tugged her towards the stairs, shaking his head. "You know, you haven't cried in a long time," he told her.

"You've changed," she said absently as he led her down the stairs slowly.

"It's been five years," he chuckled.

"You're older," she stumbled forward, and he grabbed her arm to steady her.

He only rolled his eyes as they exited the mansion.

Little did he know that Drew was trying to decide whether or not that this whole situation was a good thing or a bad thing, and if having Jason Todd—_the_ _Red Hood_—alive was really something to be happy about.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**please leave opinions/thoughts, are always welcomed! thanks again for reading and reviewing!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there! Been a while, right? Yeah... so here I am! Sorry about that...**

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Drew sat on her bed, her knees tucked into her chest, in a new set of clothes. The helmet was tucked between her legs and stomach, her arms wrapped around it. It was cold and a strange thing to keep close to her, but it was real - it was the only thing that made sense.

The young man in front of her, however - who was leaning back comfortably, only two chair legs on the floor - wasn't so believable.

Even though he _was_ in front of her._  
_

"I told you to stay here."

She grimaced.

She knew that already.

"Should've made you keep your word," he griped.

Drew didn't know what to say to this. She barely knew what to say to him. What could anyone say to a dead man walking?

His expression was somewhat sour now. "Burning down buildings shouldn't be a way to deal - and last I checked the girl dressed up as Cleopatra wasn't a pyromaniac. In fact, I'd like to know why you decided to do what you did. And who told you about me?"

She shrugged. A slurred response came out of her mouth, incoherent.

His eyes narrowed.

"The Joker."

The chair fell to the floor with a clatter, and before she could blink, he was gripping the collar of her shirt, lifting her off the bed. He was _beyond_ furious now. Was it because his best friend had gone and talked to the monster that had been the death of him? Or was it because she'd went against him and gone off - to Arkham, no less? To one of the few places that on a regular day - had there ever been such a thing for her? - that he _knew_ she'd never willingly step foot in?

"You...did..._what_?"

"I went and saw him," she hissed, "You know how he put it? 'Your Hoodie is your Bird Brain'!"

He was practically seething with rage. So, maybe that hadn't been the best idea, but how else would she have found out?

"Drew."

His voice caught her attention - took her out of her thoughts - and she felt very, very small as his eyes locked onto hers.

"Are you insane?" his voice was low, quiet. "You - he could have killed you and no one would have found the body till morning."

"I -"

His voice was growing in volume. "You've _ruined_ your hands by _digging up my grave_, you _know_ who I am - you know I'm Robin - but... you had to go and see _him_." He was shouting now.

Rarely had she ever heard him shout - at her, no less - and he wasn't often angry. But he was raging. And it was terrifying her. He gave her a good shake, as if to get it through her skull. Which it did.

"Why did you do that, Drew?" he shook her again. She winced. His voice could probably be heard by her neighbors. And they'd called the cops before when she'd gotten into yelling matches with total strangers at the doors. Nice neighbors, but still.

"_Why?_"

His voice dropped somewhat, and his expression softened just a bit.

Drew didn't have an answer. She felt on the verge of tears.

Yelling served as a reminder of the childhood this man had gotten her out of. Which was the reason why she tried to avoid getting into situations that caused people to yell.

He dropped her ungracefully back onto the bed. It squeaked in return as she bounced. He turned away and ran a gloved hand through his hair, then slowly turned again to face her. He looked exhausted.

Drew had latched onto the helmet again, watching him with wide eyes, her mouth clamped shut as to not say anything stupid that would anger him further.

He opened his mouth to speak but he didn't get the chance to.

The telephone began to ring, making Drew's head whip towards the front door.

"You going to get that?" Jason asked her, arms crossed over his chest as he raised an eyebrow.

Drew scrambled to her feet and dashed over to the phone - Jason's eyes followed the helmet she kept tucked into her chest - and picked it up.

"H-h-hello?"

_"Drew Isely"?_

"Yes?" she cleared her throat, tucking the Red Hood's trademark piece of attire under her arm.

"_This is Bruce Wayne."_

Drew's eyes widened as the phone fell from her grasp and with a clatter fell to the floor. Oh no.

Without realizing it, she also dropped the helmet. Her mind spun as she stumbled over to her closet. She hadn't thought of this. She hadn't thought of what would happen after - after -

She shuddered. She'd left blood and mud everywhere in the Batcave. What could she possibly say to him after her... her...

"Drew," there was a warning in his voice as she felt his finger wrap around her wrist and yank her away from the boots she'd been getting closer to. "Who's on the line?"

"No one!" the lie slipped out quickly as she struggled to get away. What if Bruce - or worse, Dick? - came looking for her, asking what had gotten into her? What would she do? What could she say? She was dressed in loose pants and a t-shirt, but God, she needed to go away before she was confronted with any more of her decisions.

"Drew," he tried again, but she yanked her hand away and put on another coat. How many had she gone through tonight? Two? She shook her head, sticking her feet into the boots, making a dash for the front door. Jason caught her arm again and swung her around to face him. "You can't go out there, you need sleep - dawn's almost here."

Her head was beginning to hurt, and she yanked her arm away from him again, shaking her head. Turning from him again, she went to the door, yanked it open, and dashed out.

Out and down the stairs, around the corners, past the people - until she was out in front again. Looking up, she saw Jason climbing out of her window. His helmet was back on, and his head turned downwards to look at her.

Drew started running in the opposite direction, hoping he wouldn't follow.

But this time, he did.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review if you have the time :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**I've reread this fic and decided to update it now rather than later (I'm having a lot of trouble updating lately).  
Please review :)**

**You all have been so wonderful with reviews and follows and favorites! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthan kyouTHANKYOU!**

* * *

Drew knew she wasn't going to lose him any time soon. It was really quite troublesome, ducking through alleys and turning corners, with him leaping about above her, as if this were a game to him. But she knew it wasn't. She had run off, twice now, but she'd had enough - this was getting to be too much. Or maybe it already was, for her.

"Drew!"

She whirled around and nearly lost her footing at the sight of Jason - _the Red Hood!_ - racing after her, now on the ground, a good few two dozen feet away from her. He was gaining, slowly, on her, and she gave another burst of speed, her throat aching, her lungs burning, but her legs hadn't given up yet on her.

"Drew, come back!"

Drew had no idea where she was, but there was no way she was stopping. She shouldn't be running from Jason - but she didn't want him, or Dick, or Bruce to find her and pester her and she could tell that she needed to start crying again. The urge to sob was hard to keep down for the moment, and being yelled at by her best friend or interrogated by the original Robin and Batman was something she _needed_ to avoid.

Drew turned another corner, and ducked into a narrow alley, pausing to catch her breath for a mere few seconds before pushing herself on. Running in soccer, luckily had helped her endurance issues, but running away from her best friend (she'd rather have a hug but she had to take a guess and say that he wasn't in the mood for that kind of thing) seemed wrong.

But maybe coming back from the dead - or whatever - had changed him, somehow. He didn't act like his usual, old self. Then again, he wasn't a teenager anymore, he wasn't fighting for the good guys per se, he wasn't Robin, and he was a murderer. Apparently a lot had changed for him over the past five years. And apparently, he had more of a temper, since she'd been hearing about him for a while (and hadn't known until tonight) and his antics and oddly good deeds.

She looked up and let out a cry of frustration to see Batman and Nightwing - _Bruce and Dick_, she had to remind herself - bouncing off of rooftops and _heading straight for her_. Attempting to lose all three of them (this really wasn't her nigh) and hoping the adrenaline keeping her awake and going faster than she'd even ran before wouldn't run out before morning was actually upon her.

* * *

Nightwing and Batman had finally located Drew, and weren't surprised to see that the Red Hood was perusing her - but for what exactly they didn't know. As soon as she had dropped the phone they had been on their way to see her. It was surprising what one could find out in a span of hours.

It looked like she didn't have any energy left, like she'd been running around all night (they had no doubt she had been) and they needed to talk to her about what she'd seen, and some explaining on their end needed to take place. They already knew about the building she'd set fire to (it seemed only likely that that would happen after leaving the Cave) and they were worried that if she didn't get rest or reasonable answers soon something bad would happen. The sight of her bandaged and bloodied hands made Dick worry for her. Bruce, however, just wanted the situation under control. There were enough people with instability running around to deal with - Drew didn't needed to be added to that list.

Seeing her ducking through alleys, cutting corners, and hiding for short amounts of time before continuing on as the sun began to rise was like a mouse attempting to scurry away from the cat. Although they knew, that to Jason, this was no simply game of cat and mouse.

Meanwhile, seeing Bruce and Dick again made Jason's blood boil as he once again lost sight of Drew as she dashed around a corner. Once he rounded it, pausing to catch his breath, knowing she was doing the exact same thing, he caught her running across another street, heading towards another side street. He was getting sick of her running all over Gotham - and now that Bats and Nightwing were involved in this - he was nearing the end of his patience.

He looked up to see that they were taking the high route and vowed that if it weren't for the black-haired woman struggling to get away from the three of them. By himself, he would have lasted longer, but now he was just done.

"Drew!" he called, still running towards her, just as she was about to go down the side street. She paused for a millisecond to glance back at him, and he groaned at the expression on her face. Even from a distance, he knew that on her face were several emotions: stress, confusion, fear, exasperation, and desperation. He could see her chest heaving up and down and her legs tremble for just a second.

"Stop running!" He could see her look up, and he did too (and regretted it), seeing Dick and Bruce getting closer to her, but not as close as he was. To his frustration, seeing them seemed to jump-start her adrenaline, spurring her on out of sight.

He was officially _done_.

* * *

Drew couldn't stop, but she couldn't keep going. Her body was ready to give out, and she sincerely wanted an excuse to pass out or fall asleep right where she was (or at least where her ever-moving feet took her), but where could she possibly stop and get some sleep, especially with _Batman and Nightwing_ after her?

She heard Jason call her name again, but she couldn't stop, no, she couldn't, he was angry with her, and -

Before she could take another step, she felt something slam against her body, sending her flying into a nearby, dead-end alley. Her body was thrown onto the rough pavement and she was pinned down by someone very, very heavy.

She opened her mouth to scream but felt that she was too exhausted to even struggle as Jason got off of her, crouching and slapping a gloved hand over her mouth to keep her ragged breathing quiet, his own echoing off the brick walls as Batman and Nightwing passed overhead, their footfalls nearly soundless.

He waited a few more minutes before he took his hand away. She still was on her back, a hand above her pounding heart, trying to calm herself, ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.

She slowly sat up, her legs feeling like rubber, and sat herself up against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. Her heart was too loud. She was sure that he could hear it - she was dead certain.

He remained crouching, his helmet-ed eyes directed at her. She could feel his stare - or was it a glare? - and shifted as best she could, her eyelids growing far too heavy to fight against.

"You shouldn't have run off," he finally said, his voice low and quiet as it continued to snow, the sun lighting the sky with each passing minute. "That was stupid."

Drew had no reply for Jason, and continued to keep looking at him, her breathing still a bit labored as she fought to regain enough strength to walk - but her body was spent.

"Stupid and careless," he muttered.

"Why..." it came out as a breath, and decided to save it for later.

At least he wasn't yelling at her.

"They were after you because of _that_," he said, pointing to her arms that sat on her stomach, her entire body now resembling a rag doll. "Because now you know, and you dropped the phone at your apartment..." he shook his head, and slowly lifted his hands to his helmet, and carefully took it off his head. Drew's breath hitched at the sight of his black hair in his eyes as he regarded her sternly, like she was really an idiot. Which she wasn't, but the last week hadn't been exactly normal. Which caused her not to act like herself.

"Drew." He slumped down onto the pavement, his legs touching the wall opposite him. He was also tired, but at least he could stand on his own. He was glad that his tackle had gotten them both away from Dick and Bruce. He didn't need them in this mess. They would only screw up what was already screwed up even more screwed up

"Hmmm?" she fought to keep herself awake. The adrenaline had left her - drained her - and she was in no condition to be yelled at. It was the last thing she wanted, but she hadn't listened to him, had done what he hadn't wanted her to do. But she was just so tired, and she found herself caring less and less and more about what he wanted to say _right now_."

Jason said nothing and instead stood carefully, appearing as if he'd received the perfect amount of rest to get going before he had to retire for the day. No one saw the Red Hood in the day time, now, did they Slowly, he bent over, his hands going to her shoulders, and heaved her to her feet. He reached out and held her up as soon as her legs gave out. He peeked out of the alley for a brief movement, trying to pinpoint where they were.

Satisfied with their location, Jason lifted Drew off the ground, hearing a small sound of protest and a wheeze before her head lolled back and she _finally_ passed out from exhaustion.

Shaking his head, he slung her over his shoulder and put his helmet back on.

He really needed to get her home.


	10. Chapter 10

**It's been a long time since this was updated. Since February, right? Well, I'd thought it would be nice if I updated this first (Ash doesn't count as being updated: I finished that... I'm so sad about it!) and then I'll do "The Missing Piece" (for sure!) and then the rest of the stuff :) sound good?  
hey, thanks for waiting btw :) I am back in business, so I will be updating more often (when I'm not off camping/trailering about in Idaho, of course) soooo... yeah! read on!  
review?**

* * *

When Drew opened here eyes, she immediately shut them. Her room was dark, and she could have sworn she'd had the most bizarre dream of dreams...

Sitting bolt upright, eyes flying open, Drew looked around, memories flying inside her mind as she looked about, searching her room for any signs of the night before. She looked down at her hands. They were indeed how they were the night before. Looking down at herself, she nearly blanched. The gray t-shirt and shorts she had on _had not been there _the last time she had checked.

Which meant...

"I think I'm going to kill him," she muttered, "right after I hug him." Sighing, she rubbed her eyes, wiggling her toes under the sheets, thinking of all that had happened.

Resting her chin in her hand, propping her elbow onto her thigh, she blew out a huff of air between her lips like she had when she had been a small child, feeling even more exhausted than she had before...

... before she had passed out.

In Jason's arms.

"How embarrassing," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as she flopped back down onto her bed, strands of dark, tangled hair leaving her line of sight as she stared up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, slowly, over and over, listening to the silence of her apartment and the beating of her heart in her own ears.

"So, let's see," she muttered to herself, rolling over onto her stomach and peering down at the space of floor below her. Seeing a dusty, old, digital watch, she picked it up and squinted it order to check the time.

It read six-thirty.

Looking up at the window, feeling a bit confused, she saw that it had been covered with a curtain that hadn't been there before. Eyes narrowing, rolled back onto her back and sighed. Her body's inner clock was telling her to get up, and her body, at the same time, was telling her to go back to sleep. But she had the nagging suspicion that she had been sleeping all day long, and -

"Oh, _shit_!" she screeched, sitting up as fast as she could, flinging the covers off of her body, and darting over to the phone. Picking it up (hadn't she dropped it? She couldn't remember; her brain was still asleep) and punching in the numbers to her workplace rapidly - almost too fast; she hardly even know which buttons were making the beeping sounds at her - she held the bulky device up to her ear and waited as the rings came from the other end of the line.

"Oh, crap..." she moaned quietly, tapping her foot impatiently as the third ring began.

"Hello, Customer Services of Appliances, how may I help you?" a familiar voice chirruped.

It sounded _way_ too happy for her liking as a dark expression dawned on Drew's face.

"Hey, it's Drew," she said, opening her mouth to apologize for not showing up to work, but she was interrupted.

The man on the other end of the line - someone she worked with, a man who she could not remember the name of (all she knew was that he was always happy and from time to time she wondered if he was _on_ something because _no one _could **possibly**be as happy as he always seemed to be) - gasped, and then spoke loudly, cutting her off. She snapped her mouth shut as he spoke. No need to piss him off. Not when he was the office tattle-tale. Not if he'd already reported her as "playing hookie" (she'd only done that _once_).

"Oh, Drew! You sound terrible! Why are you calling?"

What? Sounded terrible, huh? Had she missed something in the last twenty-four hours?

"Oh, I never showed up to work today..." she scratched the back of her head. This guy made it a huge deal when someone - _anyone - _missed even a _day_ at the office without calling in fist. And she was pretty sure she hadn't called in.

"Oh, don't worry about it! Your boyfriend excused you!"

Well, she had an excuse, so that explained why he was so happy, and -

_**Wait** _a second...

Boyfriend?

What the hell?

"Yeah, I guess he called when you were getting some sleep," the guy chirped happily. She could hear him typing away on his keyboard in the background, and beyond that, the familiar murmur of the office. "He said you got sick, and that you wouldn't be in for a few days."

"I can come in tomorrow," she blurted, hating herself for missing the perfect chance to sleep for days on end and not give a damn about anyone and anything, especially since the last twenty-four hours had been somewhat chaotic.

She already knew who'd called in sick for her.

And that was why she couldn't stay home any longer than necessary.

Honestly, she didn't need anyone at work thinking she had a boyfriend.

Remaining invisible was now not an option.

Dammit.

"No, you really don't have to," the guy said. Drew glared at the wall in front of her, her free hand on her hip.

"Oh, I think I do," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow." Slamming the phone down, she sighed and turned away, facing her bed.

"Jason..."

Shaking her head, feeling a bit overwhelmed, she headed towards the bathroom. She wrinkled her nose, thinking of how badly she must smell after a night of running around Gotham. Her bandages had already been changed, and her hands stung. Her body was sore, and she wanted to sleep, but if she was going to deal with _any_ of the events that had recently occurred, she was going to need a long, lukewarm shower.

Besides, she knew she was going to have to deal with Jason - and not to mention Dick and Bruce - later on. They were going to talk to her - they all were - and right now, she just wanted time to think over what had happened, what she had found, what the Joker had said, what she had done, and what she had discovered.

It wasn't every night that you found out your best friend was alive. It wasn't every night you found out the people who'd taken care of you were Batman and Nightwing, and had once been Robin - and was now a criminal parading around Gotham freely with a reputation that seemed more deadly than the man under the red motorcycle helmet he always wore. It wasn't every right you found out who the freaking Batman was. It wasn't every night you went and visited a madman for answers. It wasn't every night you dug up a grave with your bare hands._  
_

No, none of these things were normal, or ordinary - they were all entirely exhausting, and not to mention unsettling.

If Drew was going to deal with any of this, she was going to take a shower, and then maybe order some pizza before she took any of her problems on.

Yeah, that sounded like a plan alright.


	11. Chapter 11

**Did no one really like the last chapter? I thought it was decent for an update since February, but... well, I'll try and do better this chapter, okay?  
leave a review on your way out? feedback is much appreciated for this teenage author :) lol enjoy!**

* * *

Drew wasn't, by nature, particularly stubborn. But she was not, however, a liar. When she had said she was coming into work, she had meant it - though she was regretting it now, sitting at her desk, high, high off the ground, away from Gotham's city streets for the time being. In fact, she sort of wished she had taken advantage of Jason's lie - she was thinking she might have to kill (or hurt) him for making everyone at the office think she _actually_ had a personal life - and used the lie to sleep today away as well, but it was already noon, and her lunch break was in half an hour, and it would seem odd if she just asked to go home now.

The insurance company she worked for, however, was thrilled to have her back. Her coworkers - especially that tattle tale, who she desperately wanted to spill their piping hot decaf on - kept asking her and asking her about her "boyfriend". She had ultimately given up trying to tell them she didn't have one, and had decided to ignore them. Customer Services of Appliances - for some reason, the insurance company covered _appliances_, which was ridiculous, because if that were the case, than this _had_ to be one big scam, and it wasn't - was a pain in the ass today, more so than usual.

Yeah, her coworkers must have missed her _so much_.

"_But miss! I understand since this is covered - "_

"Can't you just get a new one?" Drew cut in, for the umpteenth time. Her feet were up on her desk, her shoes were next to her chair, and she was staring up at the ceiling, trying to focus more of her attention on the florescent lighting above than the squawking man she was currently on the phone with.

_"I don't think you understand! I love my toaster oven - "_

Whoever this guy was, he had to realize that she was just there to give advice and direct him to other apartments. If he didn't realize that she wasn't about to solve all his problems for him, then he needed to talk to someone else. Or never call here again.

People here hated people like that.

Drew sighed, exasperated. She didn't roll her eyes, though. She'd done too much of that before nine o'clock, and she was paying for it now. Whenever she did it, her eyelids felt heavy, and she felt sort of dizzy. It was almost as annoying as all the little smirks she'd been getting since she'd arrived at eight o'clock sharp. She knew they'd forget about this eventually, though - they always did. It might take the rest of today, or even tomorrow, but eventually, someone would do something stupid or horrendously hilarious that might piss the always-cheery-tattle-tale off and get them all working late.

Honestly, Drew didn't think that this insurance company - or at least, this department - was actually covering kitchen appliances. But everything seemed legit - and they had hired her without a degree in business, and nothing looked out of the ordinary to her, and she was only a customer service (a lowly one, according to those in other departments) worker, so what did she know? - and since she was getting rent money, she wasn't about to complain (too much).

_"Miss, I **demand** you direct me to another department."_

How about maintenance, then? They loved messing with customers.

Drew shrugged, leaned forward towards the buttons on her telephone machine, and punched in the code for the department - who always got a laugh out of tormenting people she sent their way (she wasn't the only person who did this, but mostly, it was her) - and hung up the phone without another word.

Sighing, Drew swung her legs off her desk, slipped on her tennis shoes, and stood up, stretching lazily, not unlike a cat, and scratched the back of her head with her bandaged finger tips, looking around the dingy, ill-lit floor. The familiar sound of people speaking to customers over the phone, phones ringing, people laughing, and printers and fax machines running was one that might put you to sleep if you weren't careful. Several times, Drew had dosed off due to the somehow-soothing background noise that one grew accustomed to in a matter of days.

Looking around and seeing that no one was paying attention to her, Drew decided to head off to her lunch break early - surely, she wouldn't get into too much trouble - and meandered away, the laces of her worn out, dampened shoes - from the snow this morning, that she had had to slosh through in order to get to the bus stop alive - trailing behind her as she made her way past coworkers with names she couldn't bother to remember and faces that seemed familiar and yet, they seemed like strangers.

Exiting the ninth floor's main room, she shuffled out into the hallway and turned left, the noise of her work-space - she wished they had cubicles, because everyone else in the building had cubicles, but they didn't, which sort of _sucked, _because then everyone could actually see that you weren't doing your work, and in truth, most of the employees on her floor (and maintenance, because maintenance was awesome like that) didn't really take their jobs that seriously (the only person who took their job seriously all the friggin' time was the office tattle-tale, of course) - and started heading towards the break room.

Her footsteps were loud on the tiled floor, accompanied by an annoying, quiet _squish _when her feet met the ground, but she was too tired to honestly give a damn, and maybe it would annoy someone else - that thought should have cheered her right up, and if it had, she would have _marched_ down the hall way, or maybe skipped, or danced, but she was too tired to care. And a bit overwhelmed.

You know, because it wasn't every day you found out that:

A) your best friend is alive,  
B) your best friend is the Red Hood,  
C) your best friend is the Red Hood, who is also Jason Todd,  
D) Bruce is Batman,  
E) Dick is Nightwing,  
and, of course,  
F) talking to a madman and digging up a grave with your bare hands is a great way to get your best friend/the Red Hood's attention.

Drew sighed heavily, turning abruptly into the break room - which, thankfully was empty.

Shuffling over sleepily to the fridge (because after the conversation with the office tattle-tale the night before she had eaten and had gone straight back to bed, not even bothering with the situation at hand because she was just too damn tied - and had woken up at six this morning with the urge to shut off her alarm and sleep for the next couple centuries), Drew opened the door and peered inside.

Anything was up for grabs in the break room.

Which was why it was so much fun to work here, because you got to piss off your bosses and your coworkers by eating their food.

It made working here worth it.

Drew looked around until she spied something that looked positively delicious - a giant piece of chocolate cake, hidden all the way in the back, behind the milk and apple juice cartons.

They couldn't hide anything from her.

Finding food in this fridge was too easy for Drew.

Getting it out and shutting the door, she went over to the drawer by the microwave, opened it, and fished around until she found what she was looking for - a plastic fork.

Getting it out and slamming the drawer shut, she began to eat it, slowly, but not too slowly - because she was sure that this was the tattle tale's cake, and damn, he got mad when someone ate his food - everyone liked to, because, not only was it fun to piss him off, but he brought pretty good things to the office, and since he never shared, everyone just liked to take his food - and when he was in a bad mood, you actually had to do work, or else he'd march you right up to your boss' office and try his hardest to get you fired.

Turning around and facing the sink, which was below the microwave - which, to Drew's disgust, hadn't been cleaned since the lasagna from last week had exploded because an unnamed and unknown idiot from her floor hadn't bothered to cover their lunch - she set down her plate, leaned down so her elbows could rest on the counter, and continued to eat in silence, savoring the majorly chocolate-y flavor.

Yeah, she was gonna get yelled at for this, but who cared?

She knew she should be sitting at the table, because the janitors were so touchy about where people ate - because, you know, that was why there was a table in the break room in the first place - but she was too tired, as said before, to care, so she continued to eat, stuck in her own, tired mind - unfortunately, though, she should have been paying more attention to the footsteps that had been coming down the hallway, and had halted outside the room with carpeted tiled floor.

But she finished her cake slowly, and she straightened up and tossed the paper plate and fork in the trash can.

Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, Drew turned around to leave, and get back to work, when her eyes landed on the figure who had been watching her for some time now.

And she froze.

Oh - oh _**hell** no._

This couldn't make her day any better.

In fact, the man who was smirking at her was probably going to make her day worse.


	12. Chapter 12

**I am watching _Mulan_ while writing this (Disney/Dreamworks/Pixar movie marathon on a Sunday... yay!) (and don't judge me I LOVE MULAN because that was like the first movie I ever saw on Disney that had a badass girl in it... well... besides Kim Possible. Yeah yeah laugh it up - a teen watching a kids movie? yeah. unheard of. *cough cough*. But COME ON it's a phenomenal movie and it's better than a lot of the Disney movies that came after it... IMO, btw.) and I was thinking 'why not write a one-shot' and so if you see a random Mulan one-shot appear out of nowhere that might or might not be hooked into a crossover don't be alarmed XD I found a bug leg in my blue lollipop... And by the way: I never have high hopes for a lot of Disney movies but DANG Mulan has some promising-looking fics that I REALLY WANT TO READ but I have chapters to give to you awesome readers...**

**... ignore me...**

**M'kay. I'll shut up now :3**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"It's a little early for cake, don't you think?"

Drew, for a moment, lost her will to speak, and in that moment, the young man, who was now leaning against the door frame, chose to continue smirking as her mind tried to wrap around the fact that the _one_ person she hadn't planned on seeing at work - _ever_ - was standing not five feet away from her, looking very, very... er, smug.

Yeah. Smug seemed to be the right word.

"I - uh..."

"Lost for words already? Your break hasn't even started yet."

Drew shook her head, trying to get her brain to work right, to summon up some sort of emotion that would motivate her to promptly yell at this man to get out of her building - mainly because she didn't want to talk to him... regarding last night. Or was it the night before? Drew could hardly remember.

"_Dick!_ What are you doing here?"

Bruce's first adoptive son only grinned at her. He looked a bit too happy to have caught her off guard. Which was strange. She still hadn't gotten yelled at by Bruce, or Jason, or him yet for the other night's (was it the other night? it was all so fuzzy, and she was too tired to remember correctly) events. And she was still waiting to be yelled at.

Oh, _shit_.

He was here.

That meant that whatever he had to say, would probably include yelling.

This couldn't be good.

"Uh... what do you want?"

"Oh, I just dropped in to say hi," he said, his seemingly smug and cheery mood disappearing in a flash as his expression sobered into something a bit more serious. "See how you were doing. And it looks like you're doing okay."

"Chocolate cake is _not_ an antidote for the other night," Drew pointed out, putting her hands on her hips while looking at him suspiciously. She could guess that he was either here to give her some sort of lecture on secrecy or that he was really checking on her well-being.

She suspected that both might occur.

"Yeah, about that..." he rubbed the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder - probably checking for any eavesdroppers. He returned his attention back to the young woman who was now leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.

She studied him. He was actually dressed like a normal, every day citizen of Gotham - jeans, t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Not one of those suits Bruce was always wearing - and he wore them a lot, too, which was ridiculous, because if Drew had to guess, it was a Wayne thing , to wear those suits all the damn time.

At least he made attempt to blend in and look normal.

No need to get any more suspicious looks at work.

"I need to talk to you. About that. About everything."

Drew raised an eyebrow.

"Wow. No lecture?"

"That's Bruce's job."

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm working... so. Rain check on that talk."

"Jason hasn't come by to see you, has he?"

Drew's demeanor changed - only slightly - at the mention of Jason.

Erasing him from her mind so she could actually do some work (since she had so kindly and stubbornly told the tattle-tale that she would be coming in, even though now she was regretting the fact that she had turned down Jason's lie, because if she had just gone along with it, she could have still been sleeping right now, and her body ached all over) hadn't worked at all.

Drew's expression grew slightly somber. "I can't believe I didn't know about... all _that_... after living with you guys for so long."

Dick flashed her a smile. "Yeah, well, keeping secrets is one of our many talents."

"'We' being who again?"

His smile vanished.

"You're not mad about it, are you?" he asked.

"No... I'm just... overwhelmed." That word summed it up completely; being overwhelmed thoroughly exhausted her.

"Well, I'm... _under_whelmed by your reaction to... finding out about everything."

"You were never going to tell me, were you?"

It wasn't even stated as a question.

Dick shook his head.

"We would rather have just kept you in the dark for as long as possible. Less complicated that way."

"What's complicated about it?" Drew was frowning now. Strange that he mentioned it - she wasn't angry at all. A lot of people would have been, in her situation, but for what? For _what_, could they be angry about? It's not like it was something _bad_ they were hiding.

It was just... _concerning_.

"It's just... the less who know, the better."

Drew nodded slowly, deciding that this was not the best place to be asking questions about who Dick, Jason, and Bruce moonlighted as.

But she would ask sometime - probably the same time when Bruce wanted to give her that lecture about secrecy and such.

"Oh, and, one more thing, before I go," Dick said, pushing himself off the door frame, standing up straight.

"I wasn't even made aware that you were going to go," Drew said. Her voice was a bit too snide for either of their liking, but then again, she wasn't too thrilled to see him - all she wanted to do was _sleep_.

"I figured you wouldn't want me hanging around for too long," Dick said, shrugging, giving her a half-hearted grin. "But we _are_ going to have to talk about this - me, you, and Bruce. And Jason... well, I want you to stay away from him. For as long as possible."

"Why?" Her blurting was really out of character. Drew couldn't remember if she'd been hit on the head with something awful hard - that would explain her oddness at the moment. Dick seemed to notice this too - and he was probably thinking the very same thing.

_That_ thought was very unappealing.

"Because... he... just... just do it, okay? No need to go getting into trouble."

Dick sighed and turned away from her, presumably to go down the hall towards the elevators. Before he walked away, though, he gave her a knowing look over his shoulder before saying,

"Look, Drew: I know you want to see him. I know you want to talk to him."

Well, maybe - maybe after she hit him on the head with something.

"But you've got to listen to me: whatever you do, _don't let him corner you_. We just don't want to go there right now. It'll cause everyone problems - you, me, Bruce, _him_ - especially Jason. We don't need you getting dragged into this."

"I already am," Drew said.

"I know, and that's what worries me." he muttered, and finally moved out of her line of sight, leaving her alone in the break room once again.

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**There needs to be a "Man of Steel" category for this site. I don't like looking through "Superman" when there should just be a "Man of steel" category. Wonder if it will pop up, because I'm too shy (shocker. I know.) to request it.**

**THERE NEEDS TO BE A "MAN OF STEEL CATEGORY". There really does!**


	13. Chapter 13

**The end of the world has begun. Wanna know why? Cuz I've already got the first chapter of my disastrous MOS fic completed ;) I figured that even though I can't post it in its official category yet (for a while, apparently. dang it!) I should start writing it. Crazy, right? I was writing it last night and there was a spider in my bed... I hate spiders! But I managed to finish it (over 2,400 words! And only 300 something belonged to the A/N regarding warnings about the rating! HA! but it's gonna be sooooo long...) and I'm already started on chapter 2 :) but the damn title (pardon my french but seriously) won't appear out of nowhere. Also, a Zutara fic is being planned, and a Zutara (MAYBE Kataang instead, but I'm thinking not so much on that one) one-shot will be posted sometime in the future. Not like you care, though. this and that have nothing to do with APNB, so, I'm gonna shut up about that (but I'm soooo excited for these things! don't judge me. be quiet!).**

**so... I'm gonna shut up and let you read the next chapter of this story now...**

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Drew hated being the only one left in the office when it got towards the end of the day. It was one of the many things she disliked about her job - especially now because the office tattle tale (she'd never known that his name was Ernie) had actually had the _nerve_ to rat her out to someone (she didn't really care to remember which superior he'd contacted after immediately deciding that it was her who'd eaten his cake) and now she was the only one left on the floor. Everyone else on the upper and lower floors would be going home soon.

It was only ten till five. For some reason, her department got stuck with the earlier work hours, but that meant they left before everyone. The last person (Ernie) had cleared out of there only about thirty minutes before. Drew had to restrain herself from banging her head against her desk. She hadn't even bothered with filling out any forms or paperwork that she had neglected to deal with in past weeks. In all honesty, Drew hated paperwork. The most that she got paid for was answering emails and phone calls as sarcastically and unhelpfully as she possibly could.

And sending phone calls to maintenance.

The shit they pulled with customers was just friggin' _hilarious_.

Drew heaved out a sigh and sat back in her chair, scowling down at the slowly diminishing pile of files and forms and other things that she had to deal with. She could think Ernie for all of this work tomorrow. He'd given her over half of this.

Glancing out the window nearest her, which faced the buildings across the streets and showed the streets and sidewalks below. Though she hated being here alone, in the evening, she had to admit the silence wasn't all that bad. It was better, actually, then being at home. Because at home, she could be bothered. Pestered. Annoyed. Over and underwhelmed by certain people who -

Aw, _crap_.

She hadn't meant to think of it - of _them_ - of _him_ - of any of it. Paperwork might have been boring, but it was a _distraction_, and now there wasn't even a point in trying to get back to work now that she'd thought about it.

About them.

About _him_.

... god _dammit_.

Drew sighed again, and decided that her legs were in need of a stretch. Her rear felt odd from sitting for nearly five hours without a needed break. But her head was clear. She felt lazy, tired almost, but it was a nice feeling. Almost as if she was relaxed. Almost, if it weren't for the past few days' events that were now swarming around inside her head.

It made her feel sort of nauseous. Sort of. It was a barely-there feeling, but it was still there.

_Sort of._

It was almost as if she hadn't come across everything that she wasn't supposed to know.

But Jason had played a part in her knowing, too.

So her impulses weren't all her fault.

Standing up, she stretched, her arms going far above her head as she threw back her head as she let out a yawn. A nap was in order here, but then again, falling asleep at work probably wouldn't be the best idea. Her boss might see her, and he might get mad at her. Maybe fire her, too.

Ernie would probably have cheered at the idea, if he had been present and if she had said it a-loud.

Yeah, he would have been _ecstatic_.

Probably.

Moving towards the windows, she couldn't help but glance around. She'd only been on this floor without anyone else once before. It had been a creepy-as-hell experience. She'd kept hearing noises upstairs. But she hadn't checked them out - Ernie had made her stay late. Therefore, she had been only doing the work he had made her finish.

Her job description did not include checking out creepy-as-hell noises upstairs, downstairs, or anywhere.

Halting when she wasn't even an inch away from the glass, she allowed her eyes to roam about the outside world. The sounds of Gotham were muffled, due to the fact that she was inside, away from the streets and people.

People who were _going home_.

Drew frowned as she pressed her hands and nose against the glass, remembering that the janitors hated fingerprints (though the maintenance crew that worked downstairs did it all the time) but couldn't bring herself to care while she watched the city pass by, unaware of her prying and careful eyes. This is what she liked to do, as a child, when she was on a bus, or in a car, or window shopping.

She still liked to do it sometimes.

But she wasn't a child.

She was a grown woman, who had several issues that had yet to be sorted out inside her head - and she had a lecture to look forward to in the future from the Dark Knight himself, which didn't sound very promising.

Sighing, Drew slouched a bit more against the glass, her cheek resting against the cool material. November was nearly over.

Soon it would be Thanksgiving.

And then it would be Christmas.

Drew didn't mind the holiday season that much, but she didn't enjoy it. Not when she'd been spending it alone since she'd gone off to live by herself, away from the Wayne's estate.

The silence seemed to settle over her, for who knows how long, but eventually, it was broken. And not by a coworker, or by the sound of the long-gone inhabitants of the building she was in.

No, not at all.

Someone cleared his throat, and Drew stiffened. Her heart sank. She could already feel the headache coming on, and it wasn't even completely dark out yet.

"Enjoying the view?"

Well, so much for Dick's plea, Drew thought idly, wondering if she could somehow make a run for it, somehow get away without having to talk to him, to confront him about everything - because she didn't think she was really ready.

So much for avoiding Jason.

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**Totally forgot which month I've placed this story in. If you remember, stick it in a review to let me know in case I got it wrong in this chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Dear technology: you are the downfall of my MOS story. I hope you're happy with ruining my fic D: ****Well then. I decided to write another chapter of this since my MOS fic is... no longer being written. It's back to being a plan. (gives computer a pointed look for screwing it all up and making me so mad I deleted the rest of my work ). ****My muse is somewhat, but thanks to WWZ, my muse is focused on that. And a new Supey-MOS-verse fic. It's sad. It makes me sad. But I'm writing it anyways. Hooray.**

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Drew couldn't _believe_ it.

First Dick, now Jason. It was like a really gone-sour reunion.

Drew had her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were narrowed, and she figured that it might be a bad idea to try and make a run for it.

Well, she thought, she could _try_ and make a run for it, if he got any closer.

And he had her backed up against the window.

Yeah, she probably wasn't going to make a run for it.

"I'm pretty sure I'd called in sick for you." Jason had his arms at his sides, but she could _tell _he was glaring down at her. He was so close that she could actually _tell_ that he was pissed at her.

He obviously had no idea that he was standing too goddamn close. There was still at least a foot between them, maybe a bit less, but still - she hadn't thought any of this through, and her head wasn't even on straight.

She needed _time_.

Obviously, he wasn't going to give it to her.

Something was up with him, though. Drew could tell. And when she could tell, simply from reading his body language - because, reminding herself that it was _Jason_, she could look for the _signs_ - like the occasional but compulsive clenching of the fists, the stiff posture, the lowered voice - it all _screamed_ at her that he was pissed, for some reason.

She cared, she really did.

But in all honesty, she just wanted to go home, eat something rather unhealthy (takeout sounded good about now), take a hot shower, and then sleep for a week.

But _no_.

She could hardly even remember how'd she gotten caught up in all of this. Hadn't she been walking home?

From her old school?

Drew nearly sighed in frustration.

She was too damned tired to remember.

And Jason wasn't letting her go _anywhere_.

"And I'm pretty sure _you_ are not my doctor. Or my boss. _Or my boyfriend_, thank you very much!"

He relaxed.

A tiny bit; his shoulders slumped.

Drew wondered what he had on his mind.

And then she came to the conclusion that she _could not _and **would not **bring herself to care.

At all.

Until she got some sleep. And he left her alone.

For, at least, maybe, another few hours.

"I was covering for you." He snorted. He actually _snorted_ at her. "You should be thanking me, Drew."

"I should be running away, or calling the police, or, _hell_ - maybe even _Nightwing_ or _Batman_ - "

There was a gloved hand over her mouth and a body shoving hers into the window before she could blink. It didn't hurt, but _damn_, her heart was beating _fast_. He was making it difficult to breathe, but she couldn't help the squeak that had followed this sudden action (she really should have just have thanked him for getting her some sleep and made a hasty escape, but she'd obviously pissed him off - and, again - _she could not care while she was near sleeping on her feet_) and then a muffled string of curses as she struggled against him, but to no avail.

He was _tall_.

And strong.

And _big!_

She tried to scream at him to let her go, to allow her to leave the building, but he was tense again, and she had a feeling that mentioning Bruce and Dick _had not in the slightest _been a really good idea.

Aw, shit_._

"You were _actually_ considering that?" His tone was now bitter. It stung, for a moment, until she remembered who the hell this was and what the hell he was doing to her.

She made an "uhm-_hmmm_" sound with narrowed eyes, and she could tell that his glare had just about intensified tenfold.

Aw,_ shit._

This really wasn't her day, at all in fact.

Apparently, it was too much to ask to go home.

Ugh.

Jason mouth his hand away from her mouth, and she took her chance to speak:

"Y'know, you _obviously forgot_ that you're a _criminal_ and still technically **dead**. Oh, and would you get off me? I'd like to be able to _breathe_."

He didn't move. When he spoke, she could hear the sneer in his voice.

"Dick talked to you."

It wasn't even a question.

"Yeah, he did."

There was no need to lie.

Rather, there was no need to piss Jason off any more than he already was pissed off.

That would _not_ help her situation.

"And _what_ did Dicky say?"

Drew decided, at that moment, to make a stupid decision, and _snort_, before answering.

"I'll tell you if you get off me, Jay."

This time, he listened.

Drew realized she was being... well, a bitch. This was her _best friend_, and she was treating him like shit. But, if he'd been alive for a while, and if _she_ were still _his_ best friend (while he was still hers), then wouldn't he have _let her know _that he had been alive? Wouldn't someone have _dropped a hint _sometime soon? She understood Dick and Bruce's not telling her.

That was too understandable to be mad about.

Because, come on - it was _Dick and Bruce._

But, she realized, she had, at least, expected _Jason Peter Todd_, of all people, to break the rules and tell her.

But, _no_.

He'd somehow become un-dead without being a repulsive zombie (thank god; she didn't know if she would be friends with a zombie if he had been, but she probably would have, seeing as how it would have still been Jason, even in zombie form), and _he had started killing people_.

So, Drew ultimately decided that she would do her best, in her exhausted, stressed-out state, that she would give him hell.

And hell was exactly what she gave him, because she was pretty sure that he was _sick and tired _of running after her.

And this time, after he actually _did_ step away, Drew managed to duck under his arm and get past him, her eyes trained on the doorway that led out of the office. Her destination was not the elevator.

It was the stairs.

But, hearing the enraged shout of _"Drewwwwww!" _as he started to go after her once she'd rounded the corner and started sprinting down the hall and toward the heavy, stairwell door, she knew she was screwed if she didn't get out of there _fast_.

Yeah.

Drew was _definitely_ screwed. Dead. Doomed.

All of the above.

And, damn, _why _did people make the stupidest, dumbass decisions when they were tired?

She wished she knew.

* * *

**Sorry for the cliffee... I just couldn't resist!**

**HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**60 REVIEWS! OHMYGAWD THAAAAANK YOU! You guys are _awesome_ for sticking with this story. Feedback is appreciated, yadda yadda, (but no really it is, and you guys are awesome for that, and thank you thank you thank you for reading and following and favoriting and reviewing and being epic people) LET'S JUST GET ON WITH THE CHAPPIE, shaaaall we?  
**

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Drew shoved upon the stairwell door upon reaching the end of the hallway, knowing that Jason had just come out of her work space area and was now running - quite fast - down the hall towards her. She'd promised Dick she'd stay away from him, and that's exactly what she was trying to do - although, she figured, that probably wasn't about to happen, even though she could already feel the adrenaline pumping through her system (which would hopefully give her the burst of speed she'd need to get away from him) - because when Jason was pissed, it was like he had a knack for getting to what he was angry at no matter what.

With her hand on the cold, metal railing, she raced down the steps, jumping two or three at a time. Every time she'd get on one of the small, square platforms that would lead to the next few stairs, she'd stumble a bit, and then she'd glance up to see that Jason was still at least a few platforms away from her (thank god she'd played some soccer as a child).

With the ground-floor exit in sight, she pushed herself to run even faster, and she jumped the entire next set of stairs, landing on her feet (stumbled, and nearly fell flat on her face), and she shoved open the door, and found herself sprinting across the street. Never-mind the traffic she'd just stopped or the drivers she'd just earned honks from (because as soon as her feet reached the sidewalk again she heard the exit-door open with a lot more force than she had opened it with) - she had to somehow get away from him, preferably before he _caught up_ to her.

Honestly, as his (_former_? she didn't know) best friend, she had no idea what he'd do when he caught her (because, when Jason chased something, he _always_ caught up to it - there had been proof of that throughout his childhood, she supposed, if she could manage to think about that while trying to run from him at the same time), and she didn't want to find out.

She dashed around a corner, and nearly slammed into a fancy-business-suited man with a cell phone cradled between his shoulder and ear, and suddenly, she was struck with the urge to commit a crime. She was probably going to go to _jail_ for this, but at the second, it _really_ seemed necessary.

She slowed her pace just long enough so she could snatch it away from him, and then she was off again, punching in numbers as she kept her eyes ahead of her, ignoring the man's shouting behind her. Chancing a glance over her shoulder as she started to round another corner, she saw Jason shove the man aside (she didn't miss the way his eyes slid to the man for the second that she'd looked at him) as he ran after her, and this time, she didn't run into anyone - which was a relief.

She put the phone up to her ear, hoping (_really _hoping) that her fingers had remembered the number she'd memorized years ago, and that who she was calling would _pick up the damn phone._

Dashing across a street, and nearly getting hit by a white sedan, Drew knew she wasn't going to last all night long. There wasn't a chance that she would, because Jason had been _training_ for stunts like this. He apprehended people, good and bad - he always caught whatever he wanted, no matter how far or how much his prey ran.

On the third rang, he answered.

_"Who is this?"_

Drew breathed out a choppy sigh of relief as she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Jason was _getting closer. _He was at least twenty feet behind her, but that only made her go faster - because she didn't want to get caught, not without telling _someone_ what might become of her because she'd been - well, a bitch towards her maybe-best friend.

"Dick! It's me, it's Drew!"

She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and she knew that he knew that she was running.

Crossing another street, and throwing a glance at a group of pedestrians who were gawking at the chase, she tried to breathe easier, tried to ignore the beginnings of the aches in her legs and hips, which would soon - _soon_, but not _now_ - be her downfall.

_"Drew, what the **hell **are you doing?"_ He sounded sort of worried. (Wait, so he _didn't_ know she was probably running for her life? Well, wasn't that just _dandy_.)

Sort of.

More irritated, though.

"Running from Jason," she panted into the phone, cutting into an alley, and seeing a sidewalk on the other end coming quickly closer. It was a tight squeeze - well, sort of, but she was small enough that she could slip through nearly unscathed, but hopefully, it would take Jason a few seconds longer to get through - but she was out in less than five seconds. She leaped out into the open, and nearly collided with a woman that smelled faintly of garlic (vampire repellent, Drew thought idly as she cut a short left. It was amazing that the adrenaline was keeping her creeping exhaustion and inevitable collapse at bay.

And to think, not ten minutes earlier, she'd wanted _sleep_.

She crossed the street at the end of the sidewalk. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she heard Dick swear on the other end of the line.

_"I thought I told you - "_

"I know you what you said, Grayson, and _trust me_, I'm trying!"

_"Do you need help?"_

"Some assistance would be _nice_," she nearly tripped over a curb she hadn't realized she'd been running for while trying to speak coherent English to Dick, who sounded like he was now on the move as well (but not out of breath), and realigned her footing as her feet continued to pound into the sidewalk, with her heart beating loudly.

The adrenaline rush was being kind to her tonight, or so it seemed.

But her luck was going to run out soon if _someone_ didn't do something, and being chased all around Gotham by you maybe-best friend wasn't the best thing in the world to be doing, but since she didn't really have a choice, she just made sure she was going faster, and not letting Jason - _The Red Hood_ - get any closer.

Her little idea - about the alleyway - seemed to have worked, because he was a bit more behind her than he originally had been (thank god), but she didn't use this advantage to slow down. She had to keep moving, long enough for someone or something to come and save her sorry ass, because she wasn't exactly hero/vigilante material, and she wasn't really that brave or great of a person, so - yeah.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming (running), right?

_"Give me the next street sign you pass and I'll be there as fast as I can."_

Drew was positive that Gotham wasn't a place where Dick hung out usually - you know, when he was Nightwing, because, oh, she didn't know: wasn't there Bludhaven to take care of, too? - but if he could get to her before Jason could... well, she'd owe him one. Maybe two.

Because, like _hell_ she was going to let Jason catch her - even if he _was_ her best friend. Well, sort of best friend -

Drew's eyes flashed to the sign of the corner she was coming up on and blurted out what she read as she raced past it and crossed another street. The farther she went, she realized, the emptier the streets were getting. This wasn't good.

"Smith & Jenkinhiemer," she said, and, seeing that Jason was now gaining on her (just a bit, but enough to make her eyes widen and a new, small rush of adrenaline to come pumping through her body). And she could only guess what had made him go a little bet faster.

Well, _shit_.

He probably wasn't too thrilled about the whole oh-yeah, by-the-way-I'm-calling-Dick -because-I-really-don't-wanna-see-you -and-you're-not-going-away- so-yeah-deal- with-it ordeal.

Well, neither was she, because of the whole Batman-is-Bruce and Nightwing-is-Dick (_and_ the The-Red-Hood -is-Robin-who-is-Jason-freaking -Peter-Todd), but _she_ wasn't chasing after _him_ because of it.

_"Keep going straight for three more signs and then turn one corner. I'll be there as soon as I can."_

With that, he hung up.

With a cry of frustration, Drew hurled the phone over her shoulder at Jason, because, _really_, he derseved to have something thrown at him. He really did. He dodged it, easily, but he seemed none too pleased about this action, and the fact that, in the one glance she sent over her shoulder before she returned her attention to the street signs, she'd seen his eyes narrow told her that she needed to go _a lot more faster than at the rate she was going_.

The adrenaline was draining, slowly - she could feel it, but she just pushed herself to go faster, and faster, she did go - but Jason wasn't going anywhere.

Drew's eyes swept over the first sign... and then the second... and finally, the third, and then, just as she turned the sharp corner, a gloved hand reached out and yanked her into a cramped side alley.

Her eyes went wide as she saw Dick glare at her before jumping out onto the sidewalk. He mouth _go_ at her (she was sure he didn't mean go _home) _as the sound of boot-clad feet skidding to a stop reached her ears.

"Well, well, so she _did_ call you after all."

Jason sounded a bit winded, which boosted her ego a little (who could say that they ran from the Red Hood with help and actually didn't get caught?) as she turned and started running again, doubting that Jason would stop long to talk to Dick, but, seeing as how she had no idea what Nightwing was going to do to the Red Hood (it felt so weird knowing their identities, being one of the only people who probably did was even weirder, though), she pushed herself to go even faster.

Because, for the second, Jason wasn't chasing after her (she didn't even recognize the area anymore, but picked a random direction as she busted out of the alleyway and hurtled down the empty sidewalk), but that didn't mean she was safe.

She had to keep running, and, as she whipped around another corner, feeling her pace lagging a bit, she swore profusely under her breath as she cursed her luck and continued on.

She _really_ hoped Dick stalled him long enough for her to find somewhere safe to hide.

Or maybe he'd knock him out.

Or maybe -

- she didn't even _know what Dick had up his sleeve!_

Drew snorted.

It didn't really matter what Dick did, she thought, as she crossed a street, her eyes glancing around at her surroundings - which seemed strangely desolate, for some reason - because she was still screwed.

Because Jason _always_ got what he chased after, no matter what.

_Goddammit._


End file.
